


Blank Canvas

by Flightstone



Category: Tales of Graces
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Paint Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-23
Updated: 2018-09-23
Packaged: 2019-07-15 18:55:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16069226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flightstone/pseuds/Flightstone
Summary: "A total mismatch" she'd called them. After a recent trip to Barona, Asbel begins to worry that Richard will tire of him when they have such wildly different hobbies. After offering his friend some reassurance, Richard decides that maybe it wouldn't be so bad to encourage Asbel's love for the arts after all... And thus Asbel finds himself agreeing to let Richard paint his portrait.





	Blank Canvas

Asbel never seemed to find enough time to visit the capital city, what with the demands of the Lhant lordship and everything, but whenever he could, he'd make the journey to Barona and roam the familiar streets, poke his head into some of the shops he’d frequent as a knight academy student, and most importantly - spend time with Richard. Often Sophie would accompany him, but today Asbel was flying solo. There was to be a fancy banquet with dancing that night, and Richard had invited him to attend. Asbel had never been much for formal affairs, but he had agreed anyway. It'd be rude not to go. And besides, if it meant his departure could be excused for at least another day, who was he to refuse?

The weather couldn't have been more perfect. A light breeze ruffled his coat and the sun held position directly overhead as he disembarked the boat that had brought him from Lhant and headed up the stairway that would lead him into the city proper.

"Asbel Lhant," one of the guards hailed as he was about to pass. After a moment, Asbel finally recognized the woman. Lenora Alderwood. She’d been an upperclassman when he first entered the academy, two years his senior, and highly regarded by her peers. She was also very particular...there was no other way to describe it. The woman was very by-the-book and never forgot a slight. Despite that, they’d gotten along well enough, he thought.

"Hey, Lenora. I haven't seen you around in a while." Asbel offered a polite bow and saw her serious expression twitch up into a smile as she nodded back at him with an air of pride.

"Our assistance was required at the border. Two months, took out three Nova Monster nests. But as you can see, I'm back at my regular post now. And look at you! It's still so hard to believe you're the same troublemaker back from our academy days."

Asbel didn't remember causing enough mischief for it to be memorable, but instead of saying that, he simply nodded. "Oh. Yeah... Well, I guess I finally grew out of it."

"The lordship may yet do you some good," she agreed. "So, have you come to seek audience with King Richard? You two are still friends, yes? Talk about a total mismatch."

"Wait, what?" Asbel blinked. _Mismatch?_ She couldn’t possibly mean… there was no way Richard had let that particular piece of information slip, right?

"You know what I mean,” Lenora narrowed her eyes at him, and after checking that no one was listening in, she continued in her typical straightforward nature: “ I used to think His Majesty was a pretty-boy prince who sat up in his castle while the country went to chaos, but I suppose I was wrong. He takes his position seriously, and he goes to great efforts to do all he can. He even insisted that our ranks be treated first after we fought the monsters. Us, the knights, instead of him, our king. He surprised me, and I must say, I really quite admire him now."

Asbel felt his face begin to sizzle although he couldn't be sure why. Of course, he already knew these things. Richard spent many sleepless hours trying to make up for the past and come up with new ways to improve the state of the country.

"Anyway, I'd better return to my watch,” she said with a stiff salute. “ It was nice seeing you again, Asbel. Try not to cause His Majesty any trouble, won’t you?"

"Oh, right… Of course. It was nice seeing you as well," Asbel passed through the archway and didn't stop again until he'd made it into the heart of Barona. Here he paused, re-adjusting his pack across his shoulders.

Was it really necessary for her to say all that? _“A total mismatch”_ she’d said. But was there any truth to it? Were he and Richard _really_ so dissimilar? Their conversations always felt so natural! Sure, he supposed he didn't know much about antique vases or different blends of tea, maybe his manners were a bit rusty and their sword techniques varied by a large margin, maybe he wasn't as witty or as impeccably dressed, or a flawless dancer...

That was when it really began to sink in: maybe they _were_ mismatched.

Surely Richard would rather be with someone he could discuss the finer points of classical music with, or literature, or architecture dating back to the 11th century? Asbel didn’t doubt his king’s feelings. But the more he thought about it, the more Asbel wondered if his talk of Lhant and her humble citizens - or even how he’d made a mess of the kitchen trying to cook crablettes for Sophie - might secretly bore Richard to tears.

When Asbel arrived at the castle, he'd rolled the idea around so much that he was actually beginning to get a headache. Richard, ever perceptive, ushered his entourage out of his chambers almost before they could finish fussing over which jeweled cufflinks best matched the green suit he’d be wearing that evening. After the last of the fitters had left, Richard joined Asbel on the settee where he sat looking at his own shoes.

Wasting no time with social niceties, Richard asked, "Asbel, is something troubling you?"

His head lifted a few centimeters, marred by a ghost of a smile which must not have looked too authentic, because Richard only shuffled further onto the cushions as if he wasn’t going to be getting up for some time.

"Oh, it's nothing Richard. It's just been a long trip, that's all." Even Asbel knew it wasn’t exactly convincing as far as excuses went. Richard clearly hadn’t taken the bait, either, because he sighed and shifted to face him, his voice gentle but stern.

"Did something happen?" Richard asked again.

Asbel didn’t answer for a long while. Richard watched him in silence, worry weighing down his fair features.

No, they’d promised. No more secrets. No more feeling selfish.

“...Hey, Richard?”

“Yes?”

“Have you ever felt like…” his voice trailed off, but before he could scratch at the back of his head, he felt fingers loosely catch his arm.

“What’s wrong, Asbel?” Richard asked again. His eyes hadn’t left Asbel’s face, and now his thumb rubbed comforting circles into the soft skin on the inside of his wrist, working its way into the calluses on his palm.

With a sigh of utter defeat, Asbel leaned in closer and explained what he’d heard.

* * *

Tea helped.

Richard had insisted about halfway through that it might allow Asbel to relax a little, and he had to admit his friend was right. Steam tickled his face, and the cool porcelain was a nice contrast to Richard’s constant, almost distracting warmth.

“I mean, she has a point, I guess?” Asbel admitted once he’d finished recalling the encounter. “We don’t really have a lot in common.”

“I’ve never felt that way.” Richard stated simply, setting his own teacup and saucer back on the fine silver tray laid out in front of them.

Asbel cast him a bewildered look. “But you have to feel that way, at least a _little_ …!”

“ _Have I?_ ” Head tilted, Richard smiled at him in amusement.

“You can play musical instruments, and you’re well-read, and you know tons about the history and culture of Windor…” Asbel began.

“All things that can be learned, if one is so inclined,” came the light response.

“And what about all those fancy art pieces and antiques? You always get really excited when you talk about them.”

“Asbel, I assure you it’s fine. Even if our interests don’t always overlap, we still enjoy one another’s company, do we not?”

“Yeah, of course. But I mean...won’t you get bored?”

Richard lifted a hand to his chin, pretending to ruminate on the question. “No, I don’t think so. Will you?”

Asbel shook his head, replying honestly: “I can’t imagine anyone ever getting bored of you.”

“Then don’t worry about it.”

Don’t worry… Sometimes, every now and then, Asbel couldn’t help but worry. But if Richard wasn’t concerned about it, then he shouldn’t be, right? Maybe that was all it took. Whether they had the same tastes or liked the same things, as long as they were together, and enjoyed being together, maybe that was all that was really necessary. Thinking this, he took another sip of tea.

Richard settled against him, crossing one long leg over the other. “As a matter of fact, Asbel, I’ve always felt that you and I were similar.”

Swallowing slowly, Asbel placed his cup on the tray next to Richard’s. “Really? How so?”

“When we first met, we were both seeking something beyond the titles we’d been given. Adventure, perhaps. The freedom to make our own choices, to be more than the people others saw in us.”

“Richard…”

“Am I wrong?”

“Not really. Back then I was trying so hard to prove I wasn’t the irresponsible kid everyone thought I was.”

“And you did.”

“But I still messed up in a big way.”

“And yet, I would argue, in some ways you succeeded.” Richard’s eyes softened. “You were what I needed back then, Asbel. I saw in you a kindred spirit, and I came to realize that I could trust you. You opened my eyes to that.”

“Well, I couldn’t just leave and let you spend your whole time in Lhant holed up in that stuffy room.”

“Why not?”

“Because you looked miserable! Besides, I thought if I could talk to you, then maybe we could be friends.”

“And you did that as well.” Richard pointed out.

“Yeah, but… in the end, we still wound up right where we started. Both of us.”

“Not necessarily. Despite taking up your father’s legacy as you were always expected to do, wouldn’t you agree that you did so by choice?”

“Well. yeah,” he admitted. “I couldn’t just leave Lhant like that. Not a second time. And I...wanted to do something to help.”

Quieter, Asbel went on: “It was...the same for you, right?”

Richard nodded.

“I guess we really are kind of alike, aren’t we?”

“Alike enough, and in quite a few ways that one might not expect,” Richard agreed. “Though, I suppose it _is_ a bit of a shame you lack true appreciation for the arts, Asbel.”

“I appreciate them fine. I just don’t really know much about them, that’s all.”

Richard hummed thoughtfully, a grin spreading across his face. “Perhaps we can do something to fix that.”

Asbel could only imagine what might be going on in his friend’s head now. He peered at him skeptically, ready for the punchline to one of his devious (but usually quite harmless) plans. “Please tell me we’re not visiting some dusty old museum…”

Richard managed to look offended in an instant.

“Sorry, I just…!” Asbel began.

Instead of being angry, Richard rewarded him with a laugh. “Don’t worry, Asbel. In fact, I was thinking we could do something a little more…. _hands on_.”

“Such as?”

“Well, as it happens, lately I’ve decided to try my own hand at the traditional arts. It’s such an expressive pasttime, don’t you think? To take an image from your mind and give it form, to make visual poetry. To be perfectly honest, I wouldn’t mind painting you, Asbel.”

“P-painting--” Asbel’s face heated up like an eleth lamp and he ducked his head. “O-oh. Is that all? Well, I suppose…”

If Richard wanted to paint a portrait, all it’d require is some sitting around, right? It wasn’t the most exciting sounding endeavor, but if Richard really wanted to...

Richard beamed at him. “Excellent! I’ll make the necessary preparations right away. The next time you’re here in Barona, we’ll set up a painting session.”

“Sure, that’s fine.” Asbel mumbled nervously before clearing his throat. “Anyway, I should probably get ready, huh? And you need to go greet your guests. Still, I’m...I’m glad we were able to talk about all this.”

“...Will you be staying?” Richard asked, sounding suddenly shy.

“Will you be available after the ball?” Asbel asked.

“I can’t make any promises, but even a king is allowed to rest every now and then.”

Asbel nodded. “I won’t keep you up, then.”

“That’s the very least of my concerns, Asbel. I’ll see you tonight.” A different kind of smile graced his face in that moment, genuine and fond, before he rested a light hand on Asbel’s knee, straightened himself up, and rose to his feet.

“Right. I’ll see you then.” Asbel felt his heart stumble within his own ribcage as he pushed himself, feeling suddenly energized, all previous worries forgotten.

* * *

That had been two whole months ago. Again Asbel found himself in the doorway of Richard’s chambers, but this time there were no fitters, no looming social functions, and best of all -- they had the entire evening to themselves..

Richard gestured Asbel inside, waiting until Asbel had shut the door and latched it before pulling him close. Asbel inhaled his scent, wrapping both arms around Richard’s waist, erasing the last few inches between them.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Richard murmured into Asbel’s neck, sliding up against him.

“Yeah, me too.” Asbel’s eyes dipped shut in contentment, his head leant against Richard’s collar while a gloved hand smoothed the auburn tufts curling across his neck.

Finally Asbel managed to pull back enough to meet Richard’s eyes -- except that was the absolute worst thing he could have done. In the span of a few months, the familiar act of gazing into Richard’s eyes had become something of a death sentence. He’d never understood what made everyone swoon and sigh whenever Richard so much as glanced their way until his own resolve began crumbling at random intervals. It didn’t help that Richard was always so indulgent, just like he was now, using the moment of distraction to smooth his hands down Asbel’s shoulders, grip his sleeves, take what he wanted and soak it in with unhurried movements. Asbel held Richard there while the blond kissed him slow and deep, returning the favor in the best way he knew how.

Asbel planted a last quick kiss at the corner of Richard’s mouth before he stepped away and willed himself to focus, satisfied to see that it took Richard a good five seconds to open his eyes again, his complexion mildly flushed as if he’d just awoken from a pleasant daydream.

“So, uh, about your painting…” Asbel began breathlessly. “What did you want me to do?”

Richard’s gaze finally focused, the spell breaking. Taking his hand in his, Richard beamed at him. Only then did Asbel notice he was wearing a loose white smock as opposed to his normal tunic and vest, his boots tucked away neatly beside the door.

“Follow me, Asbel,” he instructed as he led him further into the room. An easel had been set up in one corner, and stacked on a nearby desk were numerous tubes of paint, all different vibrant shades, and a container of brushes sat beside them in various sizes and shapes.

Richard smiled as he popped the cap on a bottle of water and began filling a small basin. He then nodded towards the far side of the chamber. Asbel followed his gaze, finding the canopy bed crouched there as always like a great oaken lion wearing a wedding veil.

“I thought you might start by reclining over there.”

“ _There_? Well, all right.” Asbel removed his shoes and crossed the plush rug to Richard’s bed which he was, admittedly, quite intimately familiar with already.

“And it might help if you removed your coat, Asbel.”

Asbel shrugged out of his coat.

“And…” A pause. “Your shirt.”

“My _shirt_? Wait… you’re not--! Just what kind of painting are you planning on doing Richard??” Asbel had turned pink. Richard couldn’t mean to paint _that_ kind of portrait, could he?

“Is that a problem, Asbel?” Richard asked coyly.

“N-no. I just…..!” he sputtered. “You’re not-- I mean. What if someone _sees_ \--!”

Richard let out a quiet laugh, lips curled in amusement. “It’s fine, Asbel. This much will suffice.”

At Asbel’s scowl, Richard clarified: “This is just a warm-up exercise, after all. Of course I wouldn’t portray you in a _compromising_ way.”

“Uh… right.” Asbel replied, voice dry.

“Relax, Asbel.”

Asbel pulled a face but complied, working the buttons free as Richard busied himself sorting through the paints, squeezing samples of different colors onto a wide white palette. When he was done, Asbel allowed himself to flop against the sheets. As always, they were obscenely soft, scented with lavender and rosewater, and utterly fit for royalty.

Placing the basin on the nearby nightstand, Richard pulled a tie from the drawer and swept back his hair.

“Almost ready,” he assured him.

“That’s good. Your bed’s always so comfortable, I might fall asleep.”

“Well, we can’t have that,” Richard mused.

“No. Probably not.”

Richard retrieved the palette and one of the thicker, fluffier brushes. After some deliberation, he tucked one other into his hair. Walking back over, Asbel was surprised when Richard slid onto the edge of the bed, his feet dangling over the side as he drew the brush across the palette and leant low over Asbel.

Asbel turned his head towards him, eyebrows raised in surprise and confusion. “...What are you _doing?_ Even I know you need a canvas to paint on.”

“As I said before, Asbel, I’d like to paint you.” Richard told him.

“Wait, you meant literally?”

“Why start with a blank canvas when this one is already coming along nicely?”

Eyes narrowed, Asbel said, “Somehow I’m pretty sure that’s cheating.”

“Then you object?”

Did he, after all? He’d already agreed, and it wasn’t as if he really minded… How could he mind? Any excuse to be close to Richard, to spend time together and chat like this, was well worth it. Even if it meant laying perfectly still for a little while.

“N-no.” Asbel stammered finally. “Go ahead, Richard.”

“Thank you,” the tone sounded far too humored, but Asbel did as instructed, trying his best to let the tension drain out of him and let his body sink into the bed.

The first stroke was feather light, a brief line that arched below his collarbone. The sensation faded almost instantly, gone as quickly as it came.

“What are you going to paint? Er, you know, on me...”

“Nothing particular,” was Richard’s vague reply, the wooden handle of the paint brush chiming against the sides of the basin before he selected another color. Red. “Perhaps something abstract?”

Another stroke, tracing a slow, narrow path down to his navel.

Asbel squirmed despite his best efforts. Mixed with the coolness of the water, the soft bristles tickled his skin.

“Is that all right?” asked Richard, eyes flicking to Asbel’s face.

Asbel nodded.

Shifting closer, Richard began a new brushstroke from the edge of Asbel’s jaw down the side of his neck. Asbel swallowed, tipping his head back to give Richard more space to paint on. He was the canvas, after all… The canvas.

Richard continued to work quietly. Not wanting to interrupt his concentration, Asbel took to watching his friend’s face, both the playful quirk of his lips and the way his brow drew together in deep concentration. He seemed so far away, even though they were so close now they were almost touching directly.

Every so often, a shiver would pass through him, though Asbel couldn’t say for sure that all of them were the painting’s doing. His body soon became a checkerboard of sensations - heated skin crisscrossed with tingling lines of pigment, highlighting the rise and fall of his breathing, the contours along his abdomen... It was… kind of nice, but.

_But…!_

_Laying still was driving him crazy. He didn’t know how he was supposed to stand it!_

It was impossible not to be a little stiff. Richard had begun to try something new and even more intricate, with one arm propped against his bare skin, chin mere inches from Asbel’s chest, his brush coiling tight swirls around already perked skin. Asbel shuddered again and sucked in a breath, trying to cut off the high whine that threatened to spill from his throat. Had Richard noticed? Did he have any idea what he was doing to him?

Asbel didn’t care about the painting, what he wanted, what he needed was--

Unable to take it any longer, Asbel reached for Richard, and yanked him forward, kissing him hard. He felt Richard’s muscles tense and then relax from his spot above him, arms trembling while he tried to support himself and keep from collapsing fully on top of him. Richard’s tongue pressed against his own, slipping further into Asbel’s mouth, Asbel doing nothing to muffle the noise.. They parted just as suddenly.

“Changing your mind so soon?” Richard panted, looking hopeful and disappointed all at once..

“Yeah, maybe.” Voice hoarse, Asbel leaned up again.

“That might prove troublesome…” Before Richard could get in another swipe in, Asbel’s hand closed over the brush and he pried it gently from of his grip.

“I thought you liked troublesome.” Asbel reminded him.

A wicked smile provided all the answer he needed. Richard knew all right. He had to have known the whole damn time. His gaze fell unashamed to Asbel’s groin, then made a slow ascent back up to Asbel’s face, eyes intent, even piercing. “You’re...absolutely right.”

Placing the palette aside, Asbel shifted over and pushed Richard against the pillows. Judging from the less than innocent look Richard was giving him, distantly Asbel thought this must have been his plan from the very beginning. He wouldn’t make him wait any longer.

“Hey, Richard?” Asbel asked between breaths.

“Y-yes?”

“Sorry. I’m gonna get paint all over you like this…”

Richard chuckled softly and brought him in again with a glance. “And just how far do you plan on going this time, Asbel Lhant?”

“Oh, about as far as you’ll let me.”

“You know I’d never dream of stopping you.”

“I know.”

Foregoing the brush, Asbel chose to explore Richard with his hands instead, grinning when the king’s knees parted for him, dipping his hand into subject matter both familiar and yet so often denied them. Richards grip on him held fast, his lips trailing Asbel’s left shoulder between muffled groans. Asbel decided right then he wouldn’t stop until this particular masterpiece was finished. Throwing his head back, Richard shifted further to give Asbel still more room. In no time at all, Asbel was fumbling with Richard’s belt and rolling up that ridiculous smock to reveal Richard’s bare heaving chest and so much more than that. Nothing else needed to be said as Asbel divested Richard of his too-tight pants until no distance was left. Asbel soon replaced his fingers with a raw ripple of heat as he aligned their bodies, pushed inside, and took Richard for himself.

Art, it seemed, wasn’t so complicated after all.

* * *

“I’d say I managed to capture you quite well. What do you think, Asbel?” Richard asked later.

He seemed far too pleased with himself as he lightly traced a dark blotch nestled in the crook of Asbel’s shoulder. That one, at least, hadn’t required a paint brush at all.

“Well, I mean, I guess you did all right…” That earned a playful nudge from Richard who nestled further into his arms with a knowing smile. “But, to be honest, I’m not so sure what the launderers are going to think…”

“We simply won’t tell them,” Richard assured him.

Asbel sighed, looking at the messy heap of blankets, many of which were now a patchwork of colors as opposed to their patriotic green and gold.

“Are you still not a fan of watercolors, Asbel?”

“Oh, I dunno. I think I prefer fingerpainting, actually,” he quipped.

Beside him, Richard tossed his head and laughed.

“H-hey!!” Asbel yelped, his face completely red when his own words finally sank in. “That’s not what I meant!”


End file.
